Last in Their Class. James RobbinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
an unexpected victory. Most of the credit went to Brigadier General William J. Worth, of Seminole War fame, who was the operational commander; Lieutenant Colonel William S. Harney, another Florida hero, who headed the assault force; and topographical engineer Captain Robert E. Lee, whose personal reconnaissance deep into the enemy’s positions made possible the bold flanking maneuver that carried the day. Captain George W. Patten of the Class of 1830, a poet, was severely wounded in the battle, and his friend Kirby paid a visit to “Poet Patten” afterward. “All his left hand but the forefinger and thumb having been carried off by a grape shot,” Kirby noted. “He was doing well and is very cheerful. I consoled him with the fact that though he could no longer play the guitar he might write better poetry than before.”12
The victory at Cerro Gordo created even greater political turmoil in Mexico and hampered efforts to mount an effective defense against the American column as it wended its way towards the capital. Two days after the battle, the Mexican government made proposing peace an act of treason, but the May 15 elections showed significant gains for the peace party headed by former president Joaquin Herrera, causing Santa Anna (called “the Great One-Legged” by the American troops) to threaten resignation. The internal dissension and continual political gamesmanship hampered Mexican ability to resist the small American force moving into the interior.
Vera Cruz was the supply head for the American Army, but communications were tenuous. The Mexican population was not cooperative, guerillas and banditti prowled along the road, and soldiers were murdered if caught alone in towns or the countryside. Stragglers were especially in danger, and those who fell sick and could not keep up with the column were in bad straits. Supply trains were raided and patrols ambushed. “The guerilla system is already in operation,” Kirby wrote along the march. “It is dangerous to go about alone or unarmed, indeed the orders are that no one shall leave his quarters without arms.”13 Eventually General Scott decided that attempting to maintain supply from Vera Cruz was untenable, and he chose to live off the land, requisitioning supplies along the way. “‘Forward’ is the word,” Kirby wrote, “the ‘Halls of the Montezumas’ our destination.”14
The march into the interior of Mexico went through some of the most picturesque terrain in the world. The main road ascended steadily, and the route was overlooked by high, snow-capped volcanic mountain peaks. At one point Kirby was so overcome by the view that he dropped to his knees “to breathe a prayer and a thanksgiving to a good God who made such a glorious world.”15 The column passed through areas showing evidence of the older Spanish civilization that had been flourishing in the Americas a century before the rudimentary settlements at Jamestown and Plymouth. Kirby made bivouac at an old palace, a marble-columned hacienda long abandoned, with trees growing in some of the rooms. “It was probably erected by some of the Spanish nobles who came to this country soon after the conquest by Cortes,” he wrote. “Here knights have armed for the battle and celebrated their victories on their return. Here blushing beauty has listened to the amorous tale breathed in her ear by her warrior lover. Where are they all now? The beauties have mouldered in the tomb forgotten. The very memory of the knights is gone.”16
Kirby’s letters home show the familiar thoughts of the soldier between battles—of family, the local conditions, when the next battle would be, or perhaps when peace would break out. Like others, he discussed the brevet promotions being awarded for bravery, which were very controversial. In those days, there were no medals; they were considered a European custom unsuited to the American democratic culture. But brevetting created the same strains and jealousies. Whenever promotion lists came out, complaints were raised that not all who got them deserved them, and that many of those who deserved them were overlooked. “I have just seen the villainous order of promotions and brevets in which the Fifth is entirely neglected,” Kirby wrote his wife at one point. “I am utterly disgusted with the service and were it not for you and the dear children would resign at once, but for your sakes I must continue to endure. . . . It is too frequently the sycophant who flatters the foibles of his commanding officer, he who has family political influence, of whom some accident makes conspicuous, who reaps all the benefits of the exposure and labor of others. . . . Success is a lottery and government rewards are by no means dependent on merit.”17
Kirby wondered how the war would progress, and whether the United States should have been harsher in its prosecution. Perhaps, he mused, the Americans should not have been so accommodating, paying for supplies and protecting the inhabitants where they could, but should instead have laid waste to the land and “carried fire and sword to the heart of their country,” treating them with contempt—perhaps then would the war have ended sooner and “peace on advantageous terms been offered? . . . Now we must fight it out with but little hope of a termination of the struggle in many years.”18 A year had passed since he was first under fire, and despite the string of victories the Americans had enjoyed, Kirby felt a creeping pessimism:
Our prospects in the Army, I think, grow more gloomy every day. Not only does peace seem to be more distant, but when it does come we are in danger of being disbanded. I almost envy the old and disabled officers, and wish that a respectable wound would enable me to quit the field. I should like to spend the remnant of my days in the bosom of my beloved family, in the quiet of some neat country place raising my own cabbages à la Van Buren! . . . I ought not, however, to complain. For twenty years I have worn the sword without facing an enemy. A few years of war will only fit me for a respectable old age, or put to rest my unquiet spirit forever.19
The column halted at the town of Puebla, where Scott reorganized his forces and awaited reinforcements. Diplomatic initiatives were under way, prompted by the arrival of Nicholas P. Trist, chief clerk of the State Department, bearing three million dollars to help smooth the negotiations. Trist was a native of Louisiana who had been a leading member of the USMA Class of 1822, but resigned in his final year to study law under the tutelage of Thomas Jefferson. Stories of imminent peace were rampant, but Kirby was not impressed. “I see no result but an armed occupation, colonization, and years of guerrilla warfare,” he said.20 “Madame Rumor” was rife; one story held that Santa Anna had been killed, another that Mexican troops had opened a civil war and the capital was undefended. But Kirby did not believe them. “The thousand lying rumors which are constantly circulated with regard to the enemy have ceased to excite the slightest attention,” he said. “Lying is so universal here that I am almost afraid I shall fall into the habit myself.”21
At Puebla the officers and men got a chance to interact with the locals, to sample Mexican cuisine and drinks such as mescal. The women, at least those of the established families, were generally not permitted to associate with the Americans. Assistant Surgeon Richard McSherry, USN, noted that “the most trivial acts of civility or courtesy are jealously watched by prying eyes; and the poblana who once nods her head to an American, is marked by a fierce and cowardly mob for future insult.”22 And the Americans were short on currency, which limited their carousing.
One day, Second Lieutenant William M. Gardner was hailed by his classmate George Pickett: “Gardner, would you like a julep?” It was a fine offer, since the junior officers were usually in want of money, and those who came into a sum were expected to share. The two went to a fonda that was full of young officers awaiting a similar invitation. Pickett and Gardner stood at the bar awkwardly for some time, not wanting to drink in front of their thirsty comrades, but lacking enough money to buy a round for the house. The other officers watched hopefully as Pickett reached into his pocket and withdrew a half dollar. He tossed it onto the bar and addressed the crowd.
“Fellows,” he said, “I have asked Gardner to take a drink, and I am simply bound to have one myself. Now if anyone can squeeze any more liquor out of that coin, let him step up and imbibe.” Juleps being twenty-five cents, that settled the matter.23
In August, with diplomatic measures stalled, Scott moved to bring the war to a conclusion. His enlarged force left Puebla, taking three days to clear the town. They advanced towards Mexico City, up winding ways through mountain vales and passes, finally peaking at 10,700 feet above sea level. The road then plunged down into the Valley of Mexico, “a most glorious spectacle,” Kirby said, “which we beheld from the same point where Cortes first